


A Feather on the Breath of God

by ButterflyGhost



Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 04:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyGhost/pseuds/ButterflyGhost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vecchio asks Kowalski to help him with a little problem. Kowalski doesn't know if he can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Feather on the Breath of God

Blood and feathers on the floor. Vecchio’s knuckles were white on the porcelain sink, his jaw tight. “Hurry up and do the other one. Get it over with.”

“Jeez, Vecchio.” Kowalski was cold with sweat, staring down at the blade in his hand. He couldn't believe what he had just done. “I don’t think I can.”

“You already started for fuck’s sake! Now I’m gonna be lopsided _and_ a freak.” Vecchio shot a furious glance over his bare, bleeding shoulder. “I thought we were in this together.”

Kowalski shook his head. “I know, but… fuck, this is messed up. You do this to yourself every month?”

“Look, just give me the fucking knife, and I’ll get it over with. I don’t know how we got into this anyway.”

“I’m sorry, I said I’d help, it’s just…”

“What?”

“It seems wrong, you know?” Kowalski swallowed, looking at the broken thing on the floor. Dark as Vecchio’s hair, silken... “They’re beautiful.”

Vecchio snorted, kicking the bundle of bone and feather, like it was so much garbage. “They’re fucked up, that’s what they are. Look, just do it. It’s not like they won’t grow back.”

Kowalski shook his head, sickened by what he was about to do. He had no choice though. He had promised, after all. _Vecchio trusts me with this – I can't say no, not now._

“Okay,” he gritted out. “Here goes.” He grabbed Vecchio’s left wing at the root, and sliced.  
~*~

“I thought there’d be more blood.”

Kowalski’s voice was gruff. Vecchio kept his eyes closed, so as not to see the other man’s face; open, raw and wounded.

“Yeah, well. I’m a Mutant. I heal up quick.”

“It’s still gotta hurt.”

“No,” Vecchio lied. “Not that much. You get used to it.”

“When…” Kowalski’s voice trailed off, then he started again. “When did it happen? I mean the first time?”

 _Jeez._ He wanted to yell at the guy but he was too tired to shout. “That’s none of your business,” he mumbled into the pillow. “Let me sleep a bit. I’ll be okay in a couple hours.”

“We could, you know – tell Fraser.”

In an instant Vecchio was awake. “What the fuck?” He swung up into a sitting position and glared at Kowalski. “You don’t tell anyone.” Least of all Fraser. “You promised –”

“Yeah,” Kowalski protested. “But Fraser might help.”

“How? Like he’s gonna cure me?” Vecchio clenched his fists till the nails dug in. He couldn’t tell Kowalski the real reason he didn’t want Fraser to know – the deeper reason. Fraser was his one perfect thing in an imperfect world. He didn’t want Benny to know that he was a… freak. Loser.

“No,” Kowalski was still talking. “I’m not gonna tell anyone unless you let me. I keep my promises. But Fraser – I mean, he’s Canadian. They don’t discriminate against Mutants up there. They’re even allowed to work in the military, as police officers –”

“I work as a police officer, in case you didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, I know. And I bet there’s other Mutants do. But you can’t keep carving yourself up like a Christmas turkey all your life. You ever thought about your future?”

“I tell you what I think about.” Vecchio’s throat was tight. He swallowed hard. “I think about paying the bills and putting food on the table for my family. You want it to get out that Ma gave birth to a freak? You want Maria and Frannie to have their kids ‘tested’ for mutant DNA?”

“I’m not talking about telling the whole world. I’m talking about telling Fraser.”

A wave of exhaustion rose in Vecchio’s chest, and he lay back down again on his side. He knew Kowalski meant well, and Jeez, how many times had he thought of telling Fraser himself?

Maybe… God, he was stupid even to consider it.

He’d been right to trust Kowalski. Maybe he should trust Benny too.

“Look, let me sleep. I’ll think about it in the morning.”

~*~

Vecchio looked wrecked, but that wasn’t surprising. What was surprising was that the ugly wounds were closing up almost visibly. Already they were granulated around the edges.

Kowalski stared at the collection of scars around Vecchio’s shoulder blades. _He musta been doing this for years._

He shuddered and shook it off – the cold feeling of disgust, and turned, walked back into the bathroom. Gathered up the trash bags. “They burn up good,” Vecchio had told him. “Just stick ’em in the incinerator.”

It was late. Kowalski knew it would be safe enough to bring these down to the basement, but still it seemed as though he was participating in a crime, rather than doing a favour for a friend.

He paused for a moment before lifting the bags. A feather had floated free.

He plucked it out of the air, and without thinking tucked it into his jacket. Then he turned and took the garbage to the incinerator.  
~*~

“We don’t need the money that bad, Raimondo.”

“Ma –”

“If I’d known what you were doing to yourself, I’d have told you to stop.” Her eyes were glittering, hot with unshed tears. “You think I want you to hurt yourself?”

Oh God. He’d been dreading this forever. Ma had figured it out. “I’m gonna kill Kowalski.”

“He didn’t tell me.”

 _What?_ Vecchio blinked. “Then how do you know?”

Ma sighed. “A mother knows.” She shook her head. “I should have known. I thought there was something for a long time. When you moved out – I knew you weren’t seeing anyone.”

“I’m a grown man. Grown men can live in their own apartments if they want to.”

“Raimondo,” Ma petted his hand. “There were always signs, you know? And now –”

“Now what?”

“Now Little Tony is starting to show – you know – signs.”

“You mean he’s a Mutant too?”

“He’s Blessed too.”

“Can’t you, I mean – can’t you keep him off school for a bit? Tell people he’s sick?”

“Raimondo.” Her mouth narrowed in a stern line. “Do you want him to live in hiding all his life, the way you do? Besides,” she softened, as he looked away. “It’s too late.”

“What do you mean too late?”

“He’s proud of his wings.” Ma looked proud herself. “He flew.”

 _Flew? Wow, that's something._ In all the years Ray had been keeping his secret, he’d never once flown.

“Jeez, Maria must be beside herself.”

“She’s proud too.” Ma looked at him shrewdly. “Aren’t you?”

Little Tony, stretching his wings and flying at school, no matter what anyone thought or said. Despite himself Ray crooked a grin. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I’m proud of him.”

“So are you going to stop hiding?”

“I don’t know, Ma.” Ray shifted his gaze away from her. “I don’t know that I can.”  
~*~

It took six months before Vecchio finally caved and told Fraser. Six months in which Kowalski screwed up his nerves, ignored his squeamish stomach, and did the necessary.

By the third month Kowalski was sharing the bed with Vecchio on ‘wing’ nights. Not in a sexual way at first, just because they both needed comfort.

The fourth month he woke early, shaken by the smell of burning feathers in his dreams, an unforgettable, unforgivable stench. Vecchio was asleep on his side, his body close, but not quite touching. Nearly, but not quite, spooning.

“You okay, Kowalski?” Vecchio’s voice was a murmur, soft from sleep.

“Yeah,” Kowalski whispered back. “You?”

One bare shoulder shrugged. Kowalski watched where the wing wasn’t. Almost without volition, his hand moved, and he traced the line of last night’s wound. A raised ribbon, already healed. Vecchio shivered. Kowalski shut his eyes. It was too much, the sight of his own long fingers resting on Vecchio’s skin. “Ray” he said, and his voice cracked. Vecchio made a strange noise, like an abortive sob, or laugh. Kowalski kissed the scar.

And that was how they started. Kowalski hadn’t ever imagined himself fucking Vecchio, or being fucked in turn, though he’d had long and elaborate fantasies about Fraser. Still, it wasn’t as weird as the rest of their secrets. One night, the sixth month, Vecchio kept the wings until morning. Kowalski groaned as Vecchio reared above him, a blinding smile on his face, buried deep inside him, wings stretched wide, beating the air. Afterward, Kowalski slept under feathers, warmer and closer to Vecchio than he had ever been.

~*~

“Don’t cut them.”

“What?”

Vecchio blurted the words out again before he could stop himself. “I… just… don’t cut them.”

Kowalski, reflected in the mirror, paused, then grinned, putting the knife down on the toilet lid.

“Thank God for that,” he said. “What do you wanna do instead?”

“I think – I think it’s time we told Fraser.”

“Finally.” Kowalski stepped up close beside him, and nuzzled his neck, stroked his feathers. “Look at you,” he said, fingers trailing over Vecchio’s wings. “You’re beautiful.” Vecchio laughed, but blushed. For the first time, he thought – _yeah, maybe. Perhaps to someone._

“You’re not that bad yourself,” he said, turning in the cramped space, and smiling into Kowalski’s eyes. The man was shining, like he had powers himself. All that energy and brightness contained in flesh and blood. Vecchio kissed him, and Kowalski kissed back.

“Fraser,” Vecchio murmured against Kowalski’s lips. “We gotta tell Fraser.”

“Yeah,” Kowalski breathed. “Later.”  
~*~

Fraser didn’t even seem surprised. Twenty minutes after Vecchio called, he stepped through the door and beamed. It was one of his radiant flashbulb smiles – as though Vecchio hadn’t sprouted a pair of giant wings in middle of the living room.

“Oh,” Fraser said, “how beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Kowalski responded. “That’s what I keep telling him.”

Vecchio fluttered his wings nervously. It looked like he was fighting the urge to hide behind them. “Uhm… Benny. Don’t you think it’s weird?”

“Not at all. It’s unfortunate that you live in America, but the Mutant Pride movement is gaining more support, and with the anti-discrimination legislation coming through things can only get better.”

“You sound like a political logo.” Vecchio grimaced. “I’m still gonna lose my job.”

“Yes, well, perhaps. But I’ll do everything I can to help, and I know that Ray will too. Things will work out.”

“Ever the optimist, hey Benny?”

“Indeed.” Fraser paused, and cleared his throat. “May I…?”

“May you what?”

Fraser’s voice softened. “Touch them?”

“Oh.” Vecchio looked like a deer caught in headlights. “You know, except for Kowalski, and… uhm… Pa when I was a kid, nobody ever touched them.”

“Your Pa knew?” Kowalski interrupted.

“Yeah. He… he used to cut ’em for me.”

“I bet he did,” Kowalski snarled. “Bastard.”

“Yeah,” Vecchio admitted. “I couldn’t do it to Tony.”

 _You made me do it to you,_ Kowalski thought, and bit the inside of his cheek. _Christ, I love you._

Fraser was still looking at Vecchio expectantly. “Uhm… so… yeah.” Vecchio shuffled slightly, and ruffled his feathers. He glanced up at Fraser through his lashes, a shy look, almost like a teenager waiting for her first kiss. “You wanna touch ’em, go ahead.”

Jealousy spiked through Kowalski as he saw Benny’s large hands reach out to Vecchio. Blunt, calloused fingers caressed dark shining silk. _God, who am I jealous of?_ he wondered, watching the two men he loved touching with such intimacy.

“Beautiful,” Benny whispered again. For a heart-breaking moment Kowalski thought he’d lost both of them. Then Vecchio looked over his shoulder at him, and smiled.

“Ray,” Vecchio said, and unfurled himself, reaching out one hand. “Come here.” Kowalski stepped toward him, and softly, Vecchio outstretched. He fixed his gaze on Kowalski, then Fraser. “Both of you,” he insisted. “Ray, Benny.” He hitched in a deep breath, then smiled. Relief. “Come here.”

Kowalski and Fraser stepped up close. “Like this,” Vecchio said, and put his arms around them. “Like this…”

Kowalski and Fraser embraced him at the same moment, their fingers meeting. Vecchio gathered them both close in the shadow of his wings.

**Author's Note:**

> First thing I've written in a while, and not my usual style at all. Be kind.
> 
> Based on a snippet originally posted at ds_snippets.
> 
> http://ds-snippets.livejournal.com/353811.html


End file.
